I sat in the living room. Gone With The Wind has just ended. I feel like all my childhood dreams about love are swept up and gone as well. Tears are streaming down me and my sister’s face. I can’t hold in all of the feelings in my chest. I send out and agonized cry of depression. ‘WHY?’ I bellow. Both my sister and Mom shh me and remind me of the family members in the other rooms.
They get up and go get ready for bed, but I can’t…I feel so depressed. Why do I watch movies like this? I ask myself over and over again as I try to get the heart wrenching movie out of my mind. I like sad movies, Forrest Gump had me sobbing for hours in my bed. But at least I know that Forrest had a sort of happy ending, I know how it ends.
I know I’ll be wondering for the rest of my life one thing, ‘Did she ever get him back? Did Scarlett ever get him back?!’
Unable to think about it anymore I flip on my Netflix to Gilmore Girls. I know there will be happy ending and laughs. MY favorite characters won’t die and I won’t have to think about Gone With The Wind, Scarlett O’Hara, Rhett Butler, and all of the unfortunate dead people.
I know this is more accurate than the Disney movies. But I didn’t want to think that life could be so horrible. That love could be so unfortunate. That people could be so heartless. But it’s true. So as I laughed, I felt a part of my heart had been ripped out, and I knew that one day I would watch Gone With The Wind again. But not today, definitely not tomorrow, give me a couple of years so I can relive the heartache again.